Father's Son
by Mrs Turtle
Summary: I know it's not much of a title, but just read!


A/N: This is a little father/son moment I whipped up. I bet you can probably tell who it is before it gets to the end, but I intentionally left out names. I feel horrible that I haven't seriously worked on my X-Men story in over three years but I can turn this out in a week, but I had to try my hand at an Avatar story…

And I'd like to thank l'ange-sans-ailes, he inspired the last line which inspired the rest of the story

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><p>A 15-year-old slowly opened and closed the front door. He was past due for the time his parents allotted for him. One of the many perks of the family's yearly trips to the beach were the pretty local girls; although they were worth any punishment his parents would give for being out so late, he didn't want to get into trouble if it wasn't necessary.<p>

He started tip-toeing through the hallway and was about to turn into the kitchen when he heard footsteps much heavier than his own. He froze. He listened closely to the muffled sounds from the other room. He slowly stuck his head around the corner to see his father on the other side of the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry. The man's back was turned. Maybe the boy could sneak past him. He had to get through the kitchen to get to his room. Mutely he stepped around the corner.

"Son?" The man turned, "You're home late." As he started walking towards his son he stroked his beard-a habit the man himself was no longer aware of.

The boy hung his head, wondering how his father had such great senses. He bowed, "I'm sorry, Father." He had learned from an early age to be respectful and not give excuses. He was sure his father wouldn't understand being out with a pretty girl.

The boy saw that his father was in his usual night garb-no shirt and loose shorts. In his forties, the man was well-muscled; the young teen hoped that when he was that age he would look as good, although he prayed that he did not inherit the hair loss his father was desperately trying to hide.

"What are you doing, getting home at this hour?" The boy thought he saw a smile on the man's face, but in the dark it was hard to tell. He was surprised there wasn't anger in his father's voice.

"I'm sorry, Father. There is no excuse."

"Oh stop. You were with that pretty little thing we met at the tea-shop this morning, weren't you?" The boy blushed and hung his head, but said nothing. "You know, your mother thought she was trouble," The man chuckled, "I guess she was right."

The boy thought maybe with the way his father was talking, he just might understand what the boy was going through.

"So, you thought she was pretty too?" The boy was stalling, sensing he was in a talkative mood. He relaxed when he heard his father's deep laugh.

"Indeed, she reminds me a bit of your mother when we were both young. In fact, I think my mother said the exact same thing of her." In that moment of remembrance, the man wasn't quite in the kitchen.

"How did you know you were in love with Mom?" This question was in earnest, "I mean, there are so many nice girls here, I...it's like I'm in love with all of them."

"Son," He put his hand on the boys shoulder, "That's not quite love. And love isn't what you should be worrying about now. You're young, you should be having fun. Love is complex, and it is not won by a single caress."He took his hand down and took a step back, "Love is taking a risk. You must risk in order to take the full step into love, because it is not just who you are, but because of who you are when you are with her. Does that make sense?"

The boy thought for a moment, "Yes, Father. I think it does."

"Good," He stroked his beard again, "good. Now I think it is time you go to bed-if you don't mention to your mother about the troublemaker remark, I won't mention you were in past your curfew. Deal?"

"Deal," The boy smiled. He turned and made his way to his room.

The man stood there stroking his beard when the silence was broken by an opening door from beyond the kitchen. A sultry voice beckoned, "General, come back to bed and keep me warm."

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><p>AN: Yes, it's an Iroh/Lu-Ten moment. I always figured Lu-Ten was his father's son. If you've reveled in the fluffiness leave a good comment!


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